Chapter One Hundred Eleven: ‘Thy respite, embrace...’

The Waress Tunnels were longer than Hector could have imagined. Much of the journey was spent in darkness. The headlights of all the limousines in their party often weren’t enough to reach the walls or ceiling, which gave the illusion of a pitch black night all around them. Exceptions came via the brightly lit intersections where the Tunnels crossed paths with one another, usually accompanied by some kind of refueling station or resting point. They didn’t stop at any of them, but Hector wondered what it would be like to work in such a place. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle something this isolated. More than that, though, he wondered about any poor folks who’d had their vehicles break down in here. He supposed that problem was one of the main reasons for all the rest stops, but even still. That’d suck pretty hard, he figured.

At length, they finally made it out, and even the limousine’s tinted windows were not enough to stop everyone from having to shield their eyes from the daylight. It had only been a few hours, according to Hector’s phone, but it felt like an entire night had passed.

Chergoa and Garovel never seemed to run out of things to talk about. On and on and on, they spoke, exchanging information, talking about new and old friends, discussing politics and science and history and something about a dog smoking a cigar. Hector had kind of stopped listening by that point--and so had the Elroys, by the look of it.

After a while longer, Hector managed to get a bit more sleep. When he awoke, he saw that Dimas was still awake if the dark circles under his eyes were any indication.

“...You should really get some sleep,” said Hector.

Dimas’s gaze was even more potent than usual. “I did,” he said. “For about ten minutes.”

Hector just frowned at him.

“I am not staying awake because I want to,” Dimas added. “I cannot usually sleep unless Iziol knocks me unconscious.”

“Oh,” Hector said. “What about sleeping pills?”

“...I cannot swallow pills.”

“Ah... er, don’t they make stuff you can drink?”

“...It tastes funny.”

Hector opened his mouth and then closed it again.

‘Don’t bother,’ came Iziol’s groggy voice. He stirred on Dimas’ shoulder but didn’t detach himself. ‘I told him there are different flavors, but he never listens.’

“It all tastes funny,” said Dimas, sounding rather unlike a lord--or even an adult person, Hector thought.

Hector kept that opinion to himself, though.

‘So unreasonable,’ said Iziol. ‘He was like this even before I became his reaper, you know. When he was a child, he would stay awake for days upon days and eventually just pass out from exhaustion. One time, he collapsed in the middle of a track race, and another child tripped over him and broke a tooth.’

“Uh, wow...” Hector checked Dimas’ expression, but the man just looked out the window.

‘It was quite bad,’ said Iziol. ‘At one point, Lady Amaya resorted to having his dinner laced with soporifics.’

Dimas turned back around. “...Is that true?”

‘Oh indeed. You never talked, so people could not tell that, in actuality, you were a spoiled brat who rarely ever did as he was told.’ Iziol gave a faint laugh. ‘And that, I would say, has not changed very much.’

Dimas exhaled a short breath, and Hector saw him crack a tiny smile.

After that, Iziol offered to knock him out, but Dimas refused, citing the fact that Xuan and Duvoss were still unconscious. Iziol argued, but not very fervently, and soon drifted back to sleep himself.

And Hector just sat there in silent awe of this person next to him. He barely even knew the man, but his respect for Lord Dimas had already grown by leaps and bounds. He could imagine the weight that Dimas must have been feeling upon his shoulders after hearing the news of Rheinhal. This man was one of the strongest remaining Rainlords. So many people were relying on him to protect them.

Of course, Hector had felt that kind of pressure before, as well. A few times, in truth. And it had never stopped being terrifying, especially after seeing just how badly things could go wrong.

But that was also the point, he was realizing. Yes, of course, the worst could happen. Everyone could end up dead, and everything could be for naught. That was why people needed someone to protect them. Things were not going to just be okay on their own. Someone had to make them okay.

And that was why he wanted to keep living. To be that someone.

He’d felt all of these things in the back of his mind for some time already, but it was somehow different here. Making them explicit. Asserting his own sense of purpose to himself.

Hector rubbed his face, trying to clear his head again. He wasn’t sure where all these thoughts were coming from. Maybe it was just the Rainlords’ presence. He envied the bond they all shared. Even after nearly killing each other, they were still trying to work through everything together.

At length, Garovel rounded on him, wrapped in the echo of privacy. ‘How ya doin’, buddy? You’ve been staring out the window for a while now.’

‘Oh, I’m fine,’ he said. Ramira had ceded the window seat to him. Now she was sitting perpendicular to him, adjacent her sister against the side of the limousine. ‘I was just, uh... er, lost in thought, I guess.’

‘About what?’ said Garovel. ‘Ibai?’

That wasn’t the correct answer, of course, but now that Garovel had brought it up, it seemed like a much more interesting subject for discussion. ‘What do you think of him?’ Hector asked.

‘Oh, I have no fucking idea,’ said Garovel.

‘You were awfully friendly with him back there...’

‘We’re not here to make enemies, Hector.’

Hector’s expression hardened. ‘We are if they’re going to kill innocent people.’

‘Ha.’ Garovel returned that hollow stare of his. ‘Allow me to put it another way, then. If Ibai is our enemy, it’s better that he believes he’s our friend.’

Hector looked out the window again. ‘Hmm...’

‘And if he’s NOT our enemy, then he could be a very valuable ally. A power like his? Can you imagine how helpful that could be?’

Hector could. ‘A good aberration... I’d like to believe it.’

‘I think most of us would.’

‘The trouble is knowing so.’

‘It’s impossible to know. Even if he weren’t an aberration, it would be impossible. Anyone could betray us, under the right circumstances.’

‘Yeah, but you know what I mean. It’s not the same.’

‘Maybe it is the same. There are plenty of normal people out there who are complete lunatics, too, y’know. And all things considered, we really don’t know very much about aberrations.’

‘I realize that. And I realize that Ibai might help us learn more about them. But that doesn’t mean I’m in a hurry to trust him.’

‘Mm. Well, there’s no use worrying about it right now. And you look gloomy as hell in your little corner here. Let’s talk about something lighter.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like how much fun that fight against Darktide was!’

Hector gave the reaper a look. ‘Fun?’

‘Yeah. Y’know. Fun in a pants-shittingly-terrifying kind of way.’

‘I didn’t realize that qualified as a kind of fun,’ said Hector.

‘Oh, sure. Like mountain climbing. Or skydiving. Or playing that version of rock-paper-scissors where the loser gets kicked in the testicles.’

‘...I knew some guys in middle school who did that last one.’

‘Really?’

‘...I did it, too, actually. I was part of their group.’

The reaper paused. ‘You’re fuckin’ with me.’

Hector flushed a little and covered his embarrassed smile with one hand. ‘Sadly, I’m not...’

‘Wow. I bet that was a learning experience.’

‘You could say that...’

‘These weren’t the kids from the carpentry club, were they?’

‘Oh, no. Carpentry club was high school. These guys were middle school.’

‘Right. And these idiots were your friends?’

‘I wasn’t... I mean, they weren’t... ah... Yeah, pretty much.’

‘What happened to them?’

‘Well, one moved away. One got expelled for punching a teacher. And the last one got sent to juvie for setting the school on fire.’

‘What the fuck?’

‘I don’t think he meant for it to get that big. And nobody got hurt. He was just kind of a pyro and...’

‘And a dumbass?’

‘Well... yeah.’

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Garovel snorted a laugh. ‘I’m seeing you in a whole new light, Hector. Were you a troublemaker, too?’

‘I, uh... I tried to be, but I wasn’t very good at it.’

‘Oh, well, now I need details.’

‘Ah... okay.’ Hector took a breath and scratched his chin. ‘One time, I tried to steal a pack of cigarettes from a guy. I accidentally took his wallet, instead. I felt so bad that I just pretended he’d dropped it and gave it back to him.’

‘Wow.’

‘He gave me twenty troas.’

Garovel snorted again. ‘Smooth. What other terrible crimes have you committed?’

‘Uh... I put graffiti inside a public bathroom.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah. It said, “Wait here if you wanna see some real shit go down” and had a picture of a dude pooping.’

The reaper laughed publicly this time and drew glances from the others in the car. ‘You didn’t really do that, did you?’

‘I thought it would get me in trouble! That was the whole point! Then I saw a fucking cop walk in. He asked if I was the one who did it. I said yes. He just laughed at me, took a really loud dump, and left.’

‘Knowing you, I one hundred percent believe that story.’

‘Really?’ said Hector. ‘I figured you would think I’d never be able to do something like that.’

‘We were all young and stupid once,’ said Garovel. ‘Hell, you still are.’

‘Fuck you.’

The reaper snickered. ‘Actually, I’d say you’re strangely mature for your age. In fact, sometimes I forget how young you are.’

The sudden compliment made Hector hesitate. ‘...Really?’

‘Yep. But then again, it might just be your natural gloominess. Adults are all jaded fucks, y’know, so a kid can seem older by acting all dour and cynical. Little tip for ya.’

‘Mm. I kinda knew that already, I think...’

‘Not surprising. Were there any other bad things you tried to do?’

‘Well... uh... nah, I guess not.’

‘Seriously?’ said Garovel. ‘That’s it? Two things? That’s your terrible list of past misconduct?’

‘...I jaywalked a couple times.’

‘What a thug. I guess you were just fated to be on the side of righteousness and broken motorcycles.’

‘I thought you didn’t believe in fate.’

‘Oh, I don’t. It’s just amusing to think about some cosmic, universal force thwarting a little preteen’s bumbling efforts at being a badass.’

‘...I could be a bad guy, if I wanted.’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘I could! I mean, it’s not like I’m a saint. Technically, I’ve done all sorts of bad things. Stole drugs. Beat people up.’

‘First of all, saints are overrated as hell. And secondly, none of that shit even counts.’

Hector frowned. ‘I broke a cop’s arm once...’

‘Oh, you mean that thing you felt really bad about afterwards? That thing I’m sure you STILL feel really bad about?’

‘I... uh... that’s beside the point.’

‘Pfft. Y’know, despite how keen you might have been to get arrested back then, it really shouldn’t have been that difficult for you. All you had to do was throw a brick at a police car or something.’

‘Eesh, I didn’t wanna do anything THAT bad.’

Garovel just stared at him.

‘...Alright, fine,’ Hector relented. ‘I’m a fuckin’ goody-two-shoes. Are you happy?’

‘Mmhmm.’

‘...By the way, if we ever make it back to Atreya, don’t let me forget to visit Klein and find that cop again.’

‘Ha. What do you mean to do for him?’

‘I don’t know, but there’s gotta be something. I’m the Lord of Warrenhold, right?’

‘Indeed, you are, my friend.’

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Marcos Elroy hadn’t slept this well in over a month. There’d always been something getting in the way. Something in his head. Something fueling the nightmares that he couldn’t even remember after waking up. All he’d known was that they left him sweating and his heart racing in a panicked way.

It was only here and now that things had changed.

Marcos wasn’t sure what the reason was, but he suspected that finally being able to see his father again had something to do with it, even if the man was still unconscious. The presence of the other Rainlords might have helped, too. Dimas in particular.

The party of limousines didn’t stop for another break until they reached Seisoro, and by then, it was nearly dark again. They’d been driving all day long, and yet Moaban was still a few hours away. Everyone needed to stretch their legs, use the restroom, and finally get a bite to eat. Marcos entered the gas station’s little store with his sisters and a host of guardians, including Dimas and Hector.

Marcos didn’t know what to make of the Atreyan lord. He looked to be about Cisco’s age, but that didn’t mean anything. The guy could be eighty years old for all they knew, and from the sound of it, perhaps he was, since he’d apparently gone up against Melchor Blackburn and not died in two seconds. Marcos had been hoping someone would ask Hector about that, but no one did, and Marcos wasn’t comfortable asking himself, so he just let the matter drop.

It did make him think of Cisco, though. And Gema. He wondered where they were now. He wondered if he would ever see them again. But mostly, he wondered if they would hate him.

When Shenado had told him what his mother had done, he hadn’t understood. It had taken a while. It was a difficult thing to grasp. That someone had actually sacrificed their life for his...? That it had been Ma...? That she was just gone now...?

It still didn’t really make sense to him, if he was honest. How could she do a thing like that? How could she have loved him that much? He’d never done anything to deserve that kind of love. He’d caused her nothing but problems. How could...? It didn’t...

‘Marcos,’ came Shenado’s echoing voice.

And abruptly, he realized that he was just standing there in front of a shelf full of chips. His nose was running, and his eyes were hot with tears. He wiped his face with his sleeve. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘There’s nothing to apologize for,’ said the eagle with burning black eyes. She wasn’t quite perched on the shelf, instead hovering just slightly above it.

Marcos looked over the assortment of junk food another time. He was starving, but somehow, he still didn’t have much of an appetite. He supposed it didn’t really matter. He grabbed something without even looking at what it was and then went to stand blankly behind Emiliana. It would be easiest to put his brain in autopilot and follow her around. She stuck out like a sore thumb with that black mask of hers.

His eyes glazed over as he let his mind wander. A question occurred to him. ‘When will my ability manifest?’ he asked.

‘It varies from person to person,’ said Shenado privately. ‘Give it time.’

‘It’s been a month. And Emi’s manifested after only a few days...’

‘Hers was stress-induced.’

‘So I should be more stressed?’

‘That is not what I am saying.’

‘Then what are you saying?’

‘I am saying be patient. We’ll worry about it after we reach Moaban.’

He took a long breath. Really, he was just trying to keep his mind busy. ‘What do you think my ability will be?’

‘It could be anything.’

‘...Could I get the same ability as Pa?’

‘It’s not very likely, but it is certainly possible. Servant abilities are determined by genetics.’

‘They are? I thought it had to do with personality. Or just... brain... stuff.’

‘Well, there’s some debate about that, I suppose,’ said Shenado. ‘But “brain stuff” is genetic, too, you know. As are personalities, to an extent. So there might well be a link there, but it is probably a case of correlation rather than causation.’

‘I’m not sure what that means...’

‘It means that genetics might make it LOOK like servant abilities are determined by personality, even though they aren’t necessarily.’

‘That’s confusing...’

‘Most things are. As much as we might like the world to be simpler and easier to understand, it usually isn’t. And that can be good. Sometimes, complexity is wonderful. Usually, though, it sucks big time.’

He spared her a cock-eyed glance. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Have you ever heard the old saying that the more complicated your plan is, the more opportunities it’ll have to go wrong?’

‘Uh, sure.’

‘Well, it’s the same for everything else in life. For example, the thing we were just talking about. Genetics. DNA is extremely complex. And rather predictably, all sorts of things can go wrong with it. People can be born with so many different kinds of genetic deformities or diseases. And they all suck. Apart from the very occasional one that is actually helpful, maybe offering the person an immunity to something terrible.’

Marcos bit the inside of his lip. ‘You’re not a very optimistic person, are you?’

‘I consider myself a pragmatist,’ said Shenado.

For some reason, that made him smile. And after a moment, he realized why. ‘You... um...’

‘Yes?’

‘Ah... never mind.’

‘Oh, come now. Tell me. There’s no need for secrets or hesitation, Marcos. I know you’re still getting accustomed to seeing me, but I’ve known you your whole life. I watched you grow up.’

‘Right. It’s just... er, this might sound weird.’

‘I’m sure I’ve heard weirder.’

‘It’s just--you kind of... you kind of remind me of my mother.’

That gave the reaper pause.

‘Sorry,’ Marcos said hurriedly. ‘I didn’t mean to--’

‘No, it’s fine,’ said Shenado. ‘More than fine, actually. I don’t mind being compared to Mariana. Although, you might have things a little backwards.’

‘Backwards?’

‘Not to toot my own horn, but Mariana probably took after me more than I took after her.’

‘Oh...’ Marcos blinked a few times. ‘How old was she when you met her?’

‘She was twenty.’

‘That doesn’t sound like a very impressionable age to me.’

‘Yes, well, I was somewhere around fifteen hundred, so I think I was a little more set in my ways than she was by then.’

‘Ah...’ It was weird to think about, that this reaper he barely even knew had influenced his mother so much. He supposed she was practically his grandmother. Very weird.

But it also opened up an avenue of inquiry that he hadn’t thought of before. ‘How did the two of you meet?’ he asked.

‘Mm. That is not an altogether pleasant story.’

Marcos had figured as much. ‘Please. I want to know.’

The eagle stared at him a moment. ‘Very well. I met her in a little town called Saloma, which is in Steccat, far to the east of here.’

‘What was she doing there?’

‘Ha. You might be surprised to hear this, but your mother was a Cocoran missionary when she was younger.’

Marcos’s brow receded. ‘As in the goddess, Cocora?’

‘The very same.’

‘But she hated religion.’

‘By the time you came along, yes. Even by the time I came along, she’d pretty much lost her faith already. But she told me that she was extremely devout in her youth--enough to embark on a journey to aid people across the world. While also trying to convert them, of course.’

‘I don’t really know much about Cocora,’ said Marcos. ‘Why did Ma stop believing in her?’

‘Oh, well, Cocora is supposed to be this benevolent and all-powerful being who is just the greatest thing ever in the history of the universe. And I think during her travels, your mother began to have trouble consolidating this idea of Cocora with the state of the world around her.’

‘Hmm...’

‘Mariana saw a lot of death, even before she met me. A lot of senseless brutality and suffering. And even the holiest, most convincing rhetoric in the world has a difficult time standing up against all of that.’

‘I get the impression you’re not very religious, either...’

‘Oh, me?’ Shenado laughed. ‘I’m even worse than Mariana was. In spite of everything, your mother still believed in SOME kind of ultimate creator. She just thought all religions were bullshit.’ The reaper hesitated. ‘Agh, sorry, I keep forgetting you’re only twelve.’

‘It’s fine. I don’t mind.’ It was hard to take much offence to swear words after having seen Darktide literally squash several people into a bloody pulp.

‘Mm. But yes, Mariana still possessed a tiny morsel of spirituality. I, on the other hand, do not.’

‘Really? You don’t think there’s like a reaper god or something?

‘Nah.’

‘How can reapers exist without some kind of creator?’

‘The same way that people can.’

‘Uh... then how can people exist without a creator?’

‘Ah. A very old question, that. One that has been used to justify all manner of deistic belief in the past. Nowadays, though, we know about something called “spontaneous quantum creation.” It’s a bit difficult to explain, but in very simple terms, it means that the natural forces that make up the universe are such that there is no reason why the universe could not have created ITSELF. No divine intervention necessary.’

‘Uh...’

‘There have been other ideas about godless creation throughout history, too, and perhaps there will be still more in the future, but spontaneous quantum creation is what currently seems to make the most scientific sense.’

‘...But Ma didn’t believe any of that, did she?’

‘No. She could be quite stubborn.’

‘Unlike you?’

Shenado laughed again. ‘Excuse me?’

‘I’m sorry. That was ruder than I meant it...’

‘I can already tell that you’re going to give me a lot of sass as you get older.’ She didn’t sound particularly upset about it, though.

As Marcos deliberated over what his next question should be, he abruptly realized that he was outside again. And someone had put a cold sandwich and drink in his hands, along with his bag of chips--which didn’t contain chips at all, now that he was looking at it. It was actually a bag of dried seaweed. That sounded pretty gross to him, but he resolved to at least give it a try.

Everyone else was already eating, he saw, so he joined them. The sandwich’s bread and meat were nearly frozen, making the task more difficult, but he didn’t mind so terribly. A cool meal was quite welcome in this baking heat. Even with the sun going down, the temperature didn’t seem to care. This was definitely Sandlord territory.

And that sunset--a mural of blazing streaks above the mountainous horizon, deep yellows and oranges and reds, even a few purples burning around the edges of an occasional cloud. They sure didn’t get that back in Aguarey.

Before anyone could even finish eating, the refueling was done, and everyone returned to their respective limousine so that the entourage could get on the road again.

And as he polished off his sandwich, Marcos finally thought of another question for Shenado. ‘Do a lot of reapers believe like you do?’ he asked.

‘You mean are a lot of us doubting, cynical bastards?’ Shenado shrugged. ‘Yes. In fact, I would say the majority of us are.’

Marcos glanced at Dimas. ‘What about Iziol?’

‘Iziol is a freak of nature. I have no idea what he believes, but it is probably something ridiculous.’

‘That’s a little mean...’

‘Oh, Iziol is wonderful. Don’t get me wrong. I adore him. Being half-crazy is part of his charm.’

‘Ah...’ That made him curious about something else, and he looked toward his unconscious father and the equally unconscious reaper attached to the man’s arm. ‘What is Axiolis like? I still haven’t met him yet, but you and he are... uh...?’

‘Axiolis is also wonderful,’ Shenado said flatly.

Marcos just stared at her, waiting.

‘...But don’t listen to anything he tells you about Lhutwë.’

That almost made Marcos smile. ‘He still believes in the old water god?’

‘Yes,’ sighed Shenado. ‘He will probably try to teach you all about it, at some point. Preserving the old ways, he calls it.’

‘Really? I wouldn’t mind learning.’

‘Ugh.’

That actually did make him smile. ‘How much do YOU know about Lhutwë?’

‘I know plenty about him,’ said Shenado. ‘Like the fact that he isn’t real, for instance.’

‘What else?’ asked Marcos.

The reaper’s beak twisted impossibly into a frown, and her burning eyes flared up a little. ‘Why the sudden interest?’

‘I was just thinking that it might be good to learn about religion from someone who isn’t also trying to make me believe it.’

Shenado blinked at him. ‘You want a more objective teacher.’

‘Well, I don’t know if I’d call you “objective,” but--’

‘Ha, fine, alright. I suppose you have a point. When Axiolis inevitably brings it up, I shall make sure that I sit in on all of your lessons.’

‘...Will he be okay with that?’

‘Probably not.’